


The Wolf, The Ram, and The Heart

by Thraceadams



Series: The Guardian [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bonding, Bruises, Collars, Community: cottoncandy_bingo, Future Fic, M/M, Marking, Mates, Scent Marking, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-12
Updated: 2012-12-12
Packaged: 2017-11-20 23:09:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/590706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thraceadams/pseuds/Thraceadams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles got a tattoo that unexpectedly bound him to the pack and Derek forever.  What that means and just how Derek reacts remains to be seen.  Plus, there's the whole, Stiles didn't mean for it to happen exactly like that thing...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wolf, The Ram, and The Heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nightfog](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightfog/gifts).



> Thank you to **aislinntlc** for the beta! Any remaining mistakes are my own.
> 
> EDITED: (Thank you to Bleep0Bleep for use of her disclaimer)
> 
> **This work is intended for the private enjoyment of the reader. I do not give permission to this work being shared with or read aloud by the press, or anyone working on said production of Teen Wolf, including but not limited to cast, crew, writers, or producers. I also do not give permission to share this work on third-party websites such as Goodreads, which I believe is a resource intended for published works outside of fandom.**

**

The Wolf, The Ram, and The Heart

**

_Derek smelled the change in the air, felt the zing of the magic as it zipped over his skin, into his blood, making him raise his head and howl before taking off toward the source. When he found the source, he shifted back to his human form and shook his head, growling softly. "Stiles, of course."_

"Wait. What?"

Stiles stared at him, gaping like a fish. His heart ratcheted it up, Derek could hear it. Confusion, fear, and anxiety rippled off Stiles in waves. It made Derek want to move in closer, blanket him, comfort him, the desire made stronger by the pull of the moon. Leave it to Stiles to do this on the night when his abilities would be the strongest and Derek's resolve would be at its weakest. 

"What did I do?" Stiles asked shakily.

"You bound the tattoo to you, to the pack and in doing that, you bound yourself to the pack as well."

"What? How?"

Derek clenched his claw into a fist, it was hard to keep himself under control, the wolf wanted out so badly. "I – I," he paused, shutting his mouth, closing his eyes.

"Derek?" 

The pleading tone in Stiles' voice was like a sucker punch to the gut; it made Derek's wolf whine inside him, pawing at him to go forward, comfort and protect. And then the clouds outside shifted and a shaft of moonlight stretched across the floor and his decision was taken from him.

He pushed against Stiles, crowding him against the door again, dropping his nose to Stiles' throat. "You need to smell like me," he growled.

"Okay, okay," Stiles agreed, tilting his head back, baring his neck to Derek. 

Derek risked a glance up at Stiles' face. His eyes were downcast, the perfect picture of surrender and submission. It made his wolf want to take, to mark, to claim. Closing his eyes and digging his claws into his thigh, Derek snarled, licking up the side of Stiles' neck. "You made yourself mine. I should go."

He went to step away but Stiles grabbed his wrist. 

"Don't go. You have to explain what I did, how did I do this? I just wanted to protect myself, my dad. I didn't want what happened with the Alphas to happen again, I just, I – we – the pack – I can't go through something like that again. It hurt too much, me, my dad, the pack, you."

A sorrowful whine tore itself out of Derek's throat and he was right back, nose buried in Stiles' neck, licking him, nuzzling at him, whispering to him. His wolf had so much of his control that Derek wasn't even registering the things he was saying, just words here and there. Words like _sorry, mine, never again, always protect, keep safe_ , and _love._

Waves of relief flooded through him when Stiles' hand came up to caress the back of his neck. His wolf started to calm down when Stiles started murmuring to him.

"It's okay. I'm here. I'm safe. But we are so talking about whatever the hell I just did as soon as you're back to being yourself again. So can you I don't know, get your wolfy under control because I'm this close to freaking out right now and I'm pretty sure that would be a bad thing, with you being all alpha right now with the red flashing eyes. Because Jesus, what the hell did I do? It was just a simple protection spell and a tattoo, I mean, I drew the design but there wasn't any magic, nothing went poof or anything."

Laughter burst out of him in a snuffle against the skin of Stiles' neck. Stiles babbled on a bit more and with each word Derek felt the wolf retreating and his human side gaining more control. When he felt he had enough he pulled back, hands coming up to wrap gently around Stiles' neck, thumbs caressing his jaw.

Leaning forward, he pressed their foreheads together. Stiles stuttered into silence, his breath puffing softly against Derek's cheek. Derek could still smell his fear and his anxiety but it had evened out, mixed with safety and relief. His hands clutched at Derek's back, clenched handfuls of his shirt into fists, clinging to him.

"It's okay, shhh," Derek shushed Stiles, smelling the rising panic and trying to stave it off. "Shh, breathe with me Stiles, breathe."

He stroked his thumbs over Stiles' skin. "I'm back. I'm here. I need you to relax and then we can talk. Relax for me."

The tension slipped from Stiles' body under Derek's ministrations until he was limp in Derek's hands. Derek guided him over to the bed, sat him down, took his shoes off. He manhandled Stiles until they were lying on his bed, Derek spooned up behind him, arm under his head and the other around his chest, resting over his heart, just under the brand new tattoo.

They laid in silence for several long minutes, until Stiles' breathing smoothed out and matched Derek's. That's when Derek finally started to speak.

"Where did you get the drawing?" He nosed at the nape of Stiles' neck, gently huffing out a breath.

"In my mom's diaries. There was something like it. I just took her drawing and made it my own. She said it was for protection, that one day I would understand and I'd do what needed to be done when the time came."

He paused and Derek waited, knew Stiles was searching for the right words. He kissed the back of his neck and Stiles started up again.

"She and I talked about me getting a tattoo when I turned eighteen. She'd gotten one at that age, and I just – I wanted some way to connect myself to her. And then this whole wolf thing happened and it became more than that. It morphed into something so much bigger, so much more important. It became my way to contribute, to finally be useful instead of always getting kidnapped, tortured, in the way. I could finally give something back. I could protect myself, keep myself safe, so that you could focus on what was really important. Keeping the pack safe and getting rid of the threats. And now it seems I can't even do that right."

 _No! No! No!_ The Alpha inside Derek growled, struggled to rise to the surface again, he felt his eyes bleed red and he clutched Stiles tighter. "Shut up," he snarled, closing his eyes, willing his body under control.

He could smell the hurt rolling off Stiles from his words, and pinned Stiles to his chest, despite his struggling, despite his protests. "Just give me a second, please?" he begged.

Instantly, Stiles went still and Derek could smell the way his curiosity spiked the air with hints of sage and lemongrass. 

"Derek?"

Opening his mouth, Derek bit down gently at the skin under his mouth, sinking his teeth into the fragile skin hard enough to mark, to bruise, but not hard enough to bleed. 

"Okay, okay, shutting up."

Derek held the skin between his teeth until the tension seeped out of Stiles' body, or at least most of it. He let go and nuzzled at the reddened skin, licking it softly in apology. "You've got it wrong." Emotion filled his voice, making it rough.

" _You_ are what's important, to the pack, to _me_. Keeping _you_ safe is our priority. Always has been and now more than ever."

"But-"

"Shush," Derek bit Stiles' neck again in admonishment. "I'm not done. You serve a purpose, more than you realize. The pack knows it but more importantly, _I_ know it. This tattoo, this bond? Doesn't change that. All it does is make it stronger, more permanent. And it makes me, as the alpha, more satisfied because now I don't have to worry about you leaving."

"Wh-what does that mean?"

But the wolf was done talking it pushed its needs to the front and all Derek could think was _want, take, have._

"Stiles," Derek bit off a strangled groan. The pull of the moon was just too strong this time, with what Stiles had done, they were just going to have to ride it out. "I won't bite you, I promise. But I need you to stay still and not fight me," Derek whispered fervently.  
"Understand?"

Frantically, Stiles nodded his head. "Yes, yeah, yeah, I get it. No moving. Can I talk?"

"Yes," Derek grunted, feeling his claws elongate and the bones in his face shift. "Keep talking," he snarled. 

"So, Scott is best buds with Isaac now," Stiles muttered into the pillow.

But Derek could hear the pain in his voice and his wolf whined in distress. He licked at the back of Stiles' neck, down to his shoulder, biting gently, wanting to comfort. Nudging Stiles' arm up, he licked at Stiles' armpit, his scent was strong there and Derek just wanted to bury himself in it. 

A giggle burst out of Stiles and he tried to slam his arm down but only ended trapping Derek's face in his armpit. "Derek, stop, that tickles," he laughed.

Nipping at his skin, in response, Derek ignored him and just sniffed and licked his way down the side of Stiles' body until he reached the waistband of his jeans. Disgruntled, the wolf inside him growled its displeasure and Derek reached out and rolled Stiles over. He got up on his knees, snuffling at the fresh expanse of skin in front of him, covered in scents that weren't him. 

He butted his head at Stiles' belly button before licking it, delving his tongue into it, feeling the muscles underneath the skin quiver. Hands dropped into his hair, clutching it tightly and he could hear barely contained laughter. Teeth sank into skin as he bit down again, sucking up a mark, his wolf panting in satisfaction when Derek drew back to look at the rapidly darkening bruise he left behind.

Stiles continued to talk above him, complaining about Scott. Derek wasn't registering the words he was saying, but he was most definitely registering the pain and longing in his voice. It was driving his wolf mad with the need to comfort, protect, and fix. It made him want to find Scott, put him on the ground, make him bare his belly and neck to him and surprisingly to Stiles. 

Darting his tongue out, he flicked it over Stiles' nipple, a pleased smile gracing his face as the bud obediently puckered right up for him. Stiles let out a startled gasp as Derek closed his teeth around it, tugging at it, licking at the tiny bit of flesh caught between his teeth. Stiles started to writhe underneath him, little bursts of sound coming out, but he didn't try to push Derek away, just pulled on his hair a bit more, bringing tears of pain to Derek's eyes.

Grudgingly, he let the nipple go but went right over to the other one, licking it with the flat of his tongue before tugging on it with his teeth. 

"D-D-Derek!" Stiles cried out, pulling on Derek's head.

Derek let out a growl but let the nipple go, soothing the sting with his tongue. He could smell arousal and need, feel the hard length of Stiles' cock against his hip, instinctively he rocked his own hips forward, fighting the urge to just rut. The slow drag of his own cock against lean muscles sent spikes of pleasure through his body. 

The alpha in him wasn't interested in pleasure though, it was only interested in staking its claim, so Derek moved up, sucking another mark into the thin skin over Stiles' collarbone. Which in turn gave him an idea, an absolutely wicked brilliant idea. 

"I need to mark you," Derek stated flatly.

Stiles opened his eyes, lifted his head up and looked down at his chest and abdomen. With a confused look on his face he met Derek's gaze. "Um, I think you already did. My chest is pretty much covered, dude."

"Not enough."

A raised eyebrow was all Derek got in return. The look of amused resignation that went along with it told him all he needed to know. Stiles might not be one hundred percent on board with the marking, but he was willing to submit to it because he knew that's what Derek needed right now. Derek and his wolf felt a deep-seated satisfaction about that, the idea that Stiles knew him well enough to give him what he needed without question.

"Well?" Stiles asked, keeping his hands at his sides.

Derek could see him worrying the sheets with his fingers, knew Stiles was struggling to stay still. He rewarded him with a quick kiss before bending his head and sniffing at Stiles' neck. Working his way down, he nosed around the edges of the bandage covering Stiles' new tattoo. A whine sounded at the back of his throat, and Stiles murmured, "Don't worry, it's fine. It'll heal soon."

Kissing the corners of the bandage, Derek moved on. He found the perfect spot, just below Stiles' ear and latched on, sucking at it, nibbling it, until Stiles' hands were in his hair and breathless gasps were spilling from Stiles' lips. 

Drawing back, he let out a growl of pleasure at the red mark he'd left behind. Nosing his way down Stiles' neck again, he found another spot right over the bounding pulse he could feel right below the skin. So close, he could almost taste the rich blood running beneath it. His tongue moved over the spot before his teeth gently dug into the skin. Stiles arched into the kiss, fingers tightening in his hair and gasps becoming a whispered mantra of his name. 

"Derek, Jesus, Derek."

Ignoring him, Derek moved onto the next spot, the hollow of his throat. He dipped his tongue in, tasting, reveling in the flavor of sweat, lemongrass, sage, and just pure Stiles. This spot was a bit more difficult because of its concavity but Derek was relentless. He worried the skin with his tongue and teeth until he could taste the blood he was raising to the surface, one little nip and it would be hot and thick on his tongue. Only then did he move on to the next spot, right over the pulse on the other side.

Stiles was whimpering now, hips thrusting up against him, hands fisted in his hair, sweat beading up all over as he struggled to remain motionless. Pride surged through Derek as he moved to the spot behind Stiles' other ear. "So good," he said, licking up the shell of Stiles' ear. "So good for me. Almost done."

"Okay, okay, okay," Stiles panted out.

Risking a glance over at him, Derek could see Stiles biting his lip, his brow furrowed in concentration and he grinned before biting right into the skin under his lips. Not hard enough to break it, never that hard, but hard enough that Stiles let out a long drawn out moan that might have been Derek's name but mostly just sounded like wordless frustrated pleasure.

When he was finished, Derek pulled back to admire his work. Five blazing red marks circled Stiles neck. There would be six when Derek marked the back of Stiles' neck, but for now there were five, if one connected them they would look like a necklace or more likely, a collar. It made Stiles his. Now everyone would know and he couldn't help the feeling of smug pride that filled him or made the wolf inside him howl in appreciation.

He manhandled Stiles until Derek was spooned around him, mouthing at the back of Stiles' neck, licking, biting, and leaving the mark to complete the circle. The arousal coming off Stiles was heady and cinnamon-tinted, but Derek chose to ignore it. Instead, he pillowed one arm under Stiles' head and the other he used to lace their fingers together and wrap around Stiles' chest, resting over his heart, the same position they'd been in earlier. 

The exhaustion hit him, the overwhelming fatigue washed over him and he slumped against Stiles, emotionally and physically drained.

"Derek?" 

He kissed the back of Stiles' neck before falling silent again.

"Derek? You okay?"

"Tired."

"Yeah, I kinda got that with the way you're slumped over me, and fuck, you're heavy as shit."

"M'sorry. This," he attempts a flapping gesture with his hand, "took it out of me."

"Oh shit man, are you gonna be okay? What do I do?"

"Just," Derek paused, taking a deep breath. "Nothing. Just be here."

"Okay," Stiles patted his arm awkwardly. "Okay, you just rest."

He fell silent then and Derek wondered how long it would last because Stiles was very rarely silent. He stifled a chuckle when just a mere two minutes later, Stiles started to babble. It wasn't nonsense, but Derek was too blown out to focus on what he was saying. He only caught a few words here and there. _mate, collars, some werewolf thing, never gonna be able to hide,_ and _what happens now?_

Before he got the chance to answer though, he heard rapidly approaching footsteps and voices and his whole body tensed. He was too tired, too out of it to be thinking properly so he did the only thing he could do. Angrily, he levered himself up, bending over Stiles in a protective stance, trying to block him from both the door and the window, eyes flashing red, and a hint of a growl in the back of his throat.

"Derek?" Stiles' panicked voice sounded under him, a hand wrapping around his calf. "Derek?"

This time it was a whine that slipped out unbidden because Stiles was upset. He didn't have time to comfort him because the door burst open and Scott and Isaac spilled into the room. Derek dropped to a crouch and growled. 

"Derek!" Scott shouted at him, his eyes glowing yellow as he started to shift.

"Scott!" Stiles let out a strangled cry behind Derek, struggling to pull the blanket up over his chest. 

Derek could feel the embarrassment and indignation coming off Stiles, could smell the acrid odor of it in the air and his wolf remembered the pain Stiles had shared earlier. He turned his red eyes toward Scott and snarled menacingly. Shifting his stance a bit, tension filled his body as glared at Scott.

Scott must have gotten the message because he dropped to the floor, on his knees, eyes downcast, and neck bared. "Jesus, Derek, what the fuck did I do?" he whimpered.

His only answer was another growl from Derek, one that sent him face down onto the floor and drew out a protest from Isaac. 

"Derek! What the hell?"

Derek simply turned his focus to Isaac and snarled at him as well, sending him to his knees. The hand on his calf tightened. "Derek." 

He turned, looking down at the hand and then at the unhappiness on Stiles' face. His wolf sunk down inside him and shame washed over him. 

"Please Derek? It's okay," Stiles said softly, his thumb rubbing at Derek's leg.

Instantly, the fatigue came back, his shoulders slumped, and he dropped back down to the bed, spooning in front of Stiles, unwilling to turn his back on Scott or the others he could see lingering in the doorway, but unable to put Stiles close to them either. Stiles seemed to understand, because he hooked his chin over Derek's shoulder and wrapped an arm around his waist.

"What the hell is going on?" Lydia's voice sounded from out in the hallway.

She pushed her way into the room and Derek looked up at her, his eyes rimmed in red and she stilled, taking in the scene in front of her. 

"Derek," she said sharply. "Nobody is going to hurt Stiles. We came here because they sensed something wrong with you. They felt you grow weak. They were afraid and wanted to help. Obviously things are okay, aside from Scott and Isaac still cowering on the floor –"

An annoyed growl sounded through the room and whatever was holding Scott and Isaac in place disappeared and cautiously they started to rise.

"Better. Now, we're just gonna camp out here on the floor, because none of them are too happy about leaving –" she rolled her eyes as she was gently moved to the side so Boyd, Jackson, and Erica could finally enter the room. "And then tomorrow, we are going to have a talk. You're going to tell us what the hell happened, what made you weak, why the hell you're protecting Stiles like he's a freaking bone, and why Scott and Isaac were prostrating themselves in front of you. But for now, you need to rest."

Watching warily as the pack settled onto the floor, Lydia closest to the bed, the tension in Derek slowly started to ease as the scent of pack and home filled the room. He felt Stiles relax behind him, the grip on his waist loosening up a bit, enough for Derek to lace their fingers together over his belly, stroking his thumb over the back of Stiles' hand.

Soon, the entire pack was asleep, Boyd and Jackson both snoring, and Derek could feel the steady even rhythm of Stiles at his back. Only then, did he allow sleep to claim him, albeit with one eye open.

****

****

*******

The smell of frying bacon and pancakes was what woke Derek. Blearily, he looked around the room. Most of the pack had left, but he could hear them downstairs. Stiles was still in the bed beside him. He could tell from the uneven breathing pattern that Stiles was awake. It was only a matter of moments before Stiles would start talking, Derek could feel it.

"Wanna tell me what last night was all about?" Stiles asked softly.

Derek felt the soft press of lips on his shoulder and Stiles' fingers trailed up and down his arm lightly. He opened his mouth and then closed it again without saying anything. He wasn't sure what to say.

"Boys!" The sheriff's voice floated up the stairs making Stiles wince behind him. "Breakfast!"

"Saved by the Sheriff," Stiles muttered into his skin, before kissing him again and pushing against him to get out of bed.

Reaching out, Derek circled his fingers around Stiles' wrist and Stiles turned to look at him. A surprised gasp slipped out as his eyes took in every mark he'd left on Stile's body last night. His chest was littered with them and the collar around his neck was unmistakable. The primal surge of pride twisted in his gut, threatening to pull a possessive and proud growl out of him but Derek fought it back, tightening his fingers. "Wait."

Stiles raised an eyebrow in expectation. 

"Last night. It was," Derek paused, his heart racing inside his chest. He could hear the others moving around downstairs, smell their anxiety over his own. "My wolf –"

"I get it. Your wolf took over. No big deal." 

Stiles turned away but not before Derek saw the hurt in his eyes and knew that he'd been misunderstood. His fingers dug into Stiles' wrist. "No. You didn't let me finish."

"It's okay, really, I understand. The wolf kind of takes over, and yeah last night was amazing, you know, Stilestastic, maybe even Stileslicious, but it was a thing, a thing we don't ever have to talk about again and mppfff –"

Aggravated, Derek stood up in one graceful move and covered Stiles' mouth with his own, really the only effective way to get Stiles to stop talking, especially when he was talking nonsense. When Stiles grabbed Derek's waist and tugged him closer and Derek was swallowing all the needy sounds spilling out of him, he let out a frustrated growl and pulled back. Immediately his hand was over Stiles' mouth and he frowned at Stiles, pointing his finger at him. "No, you will let me finish."

Stiles nodded his head, but Derek could see the mischievous glint in his eyes which meant his time was limited, so he swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and started to talk.

"That tattoo, it means more than you think it does, maybe more than you're ready for or even want. Last night, yes, my wolf took over. It was driven by instincts, instincts even I can't fight, gods know I've tried, for years. The thought of you being injured and the smell of a stranger and a hunter all over you about drove my wolf insane. I know you've read up on wolves and I know you're not stupid, I just didn't think you were this oblivious. But then maybe you weren't, maybe you knew exactly what you were doing when you got that tattoo."

The smell of frustration and a hint of desperation were starting to permeate the room and Derek knew his time was almost up. Stiles was about at the end of his rope, Derek could tell. He opened his mouth to start again but a moan slipped out instead when Stiles licked his hand and rocked his hips against Derek's thigh. He felt the hard line of Stiles' erection pressing into the side of his leg. It was severely distracting and he had things that needed saying. 

Casting a frown at Stiles, he pulled his hand away, wiping it on his jeans. 

"I just –" Stiles started, stopping when Derek glared at him. "Please?"

Heaving out a sigh and hanging his head, Derek nodded, because when Stiles looked at him like that and used that tone of voice, it broke down all his defenses, leaving him vulnerable and open.

"I may not have known the complete and possibly dire consequences of my tattoo but I knew what I was doing. I bound myself to you and the pack on purpose."

"You bound yourself to _me_ ," Derek reemphasized. "To a man that's part wolf."

He watched as the wheels turned in Stiles' head, saw the exact moment when Stiles realized what he meant. 

"Okay. So that happened. Um…Are you mad?" Stiles asked sheepishly, a blush making his cheeks pink and sweetening up his scent. 

"Is this what you want? Are you ready for this?"

Stiles stared at him for a very long time, long enough that Derek grew uncomfortable.

"The wolf and the ram are stronger together, especially when joined by the heart," Stiles mumbled.

"What did you say?" Derek asked, startled.

"It was something my mom said to me once, when she was sick. It never made sense until Scott was turned, until the pack, until –" his voice trailed off. The _you_ was left unspoken. He fingered the edge of the bandage. "That's what the tattoo is. It's an artistic representation of the astrological sign of Aries combined with the head of a wolf, forming a heart. The Wolf. The Ram. And the Heart. I designed it myself. Worked on it for a while, well, since Scott was turned and I realized what it meant. What my mom said that is."

He went silent for a moment before walking over to his desk and opening one of the drawers. 

Derek watched as he pulled out a purple box. "Here, open it."

Cautiously Derek took it, opening it. Inside, nestled against purple satin was a silver pendant of the Aries symbol, similar to the design of the tattoo Derek could see through the plastic.

"It was my mom's. She said it was important, that it would come in handy someday. It came with a pair of earrings."

Jerking his head up, Derek stepped closer, studying the tattoo through the plastic. "That's why you went to Argent. You had him pound the silver down."

Stiles nodded his head. "He pounded it down into a powder and I had the tattoo artist mix it with the ink. For protection."

"Against us," Derek said flatly, his heart catching in his chest.

"No, no. NO! Against the Alphas. I can't have something like that happening again. They took my memories, Derek. They stole my memories of you, my dad, of _her_. Nobody's gonna do that to me again. Ever. Deaton told me I was lucky I got them back. I had to do something to keep them safe. To keep _me_ safe. According to my mom's journals, silver powder works in a similar way to mountain ash, you just have to believe."

"But I – we –" Derek looked at him in confusion. He'd touched Stiles, held him, marked him. _Claimed_ him. "How?"

"Silly wolf, tricks are for kids. I didn't do it to guard against you. I never believed it would help me against you, only against werewolves with the intent to harm. It's complicated. I don't even know if it will work. But I had to try."

"Boys!" The Sheriff's voice sounded from downstairs.

"We should go, before he comes up here."

"We're not done talking," Derek protested.

"We have all the time in the world to talk. Besides, I'm pretty sure we're going to have the world's most embarrassing conversation with my Dad after breakfast. You coming?" he asked, snagging a shirt and jeans off the chair.

Silently, Derek nodded, reaching down to grab his jeans off the floor. Once dressed, he followed Stiles down the stairs, his heart racing, suddenly embarrassed about the blazing reminder of what he'd done last night winding itself around Stiles' neck.

They walked into the kitchen and were greeted happily by everyone. Nothing was said about the ring of hickeys around Stiles' neck, beyond a pointed look by the Sheriff which had Derek squirming in his seat and Stiles' hand squeezing his thigh sympathetically.

There were pancakes, eggs, sausage, toast, bacon, juice, and Jackson had even made a donut run so there were several dozen donuts. The food was making everyone sated and happy but he could feel the expectation building in the air. He wasn't ready to give the pack the whole story, not when he and Stiles hadn't even finished discussing it. The Sheriff was another matter but they would talk to him when the pack left. For now…

He cleared his throat and stood up. "Stiles bound himself to the pack last night. The tattoo he got," he paused looking down at Stiles, who although his face was red in embarrassment and he was rubbing the back of his head with his hand, nodded at him. "The tattoo he got was one he designed himself and because he's Stiles he was able to use it to bind himself to us. It will also serve to protect him. So nothing like what happened with the Alphas will ever happen again."

Derek swallowed hard, he could practically hear the questions they wanted to ask but he wasn't planning on answering any of them, save one. "My wolf got a little possessive last night because of the full moon and I couldn't control him or myself. That's all."

He sat back down and Stiles returned his hand to Derek's thigh, squeezing it again, reassuring him, calming his wolf. 

"Okay," the Sheriff clapped his hands. "So that's that. Now, I expect help cleaning this mess up and then I'm sure you all have places you need to be." He fixed a pointed look on each of them in turn and Derek was grateful. The pack would leave and after the horribly embarrassing conversation that was coming up, he and Stiles would be left alone to finish talking.

The pack made quick work of cleaning up the kitchen and with shouts of 'thank you' to the Sheriff and brief hugs to both the Sheriff and Stiles, they made their way out of the house until it was just Scott left. Derek watched as Scott dragged Stiles out to the front porch, snorting softly because Scott knew that wouldn't stop Derek from being able to hear the conversation.

"Any idea what that's about?" The Sheriff asked, handing him another dish to put in the dishwasher.

"Yes and no. Scott and Isaac have become very close. I think Stiles has been feeling left out. And Scott missed some pretty big things." 

"Hmmm, you mean like when Gerard Argent used my son as a punching bag to send a message?"

Derek stiffened. "Among other things."

"But you got them, loud and clear." The Sheriff turned and looked at him, the eyes of a father staring right into his soul.

The grip Derek had on the glass he was drying tightened so much the Sheriff reached over to take it from him, patting him on the shoulder when he did. "I kinda figured that." His fingers pressed into Derek's shoulder. "Thank you."

Derek nodded, not trusting himself to speak. 

"So those marks around my son's neck…"

"Dad," Stiles whined, walking into the kitchen and interrupting them. "So dishes done. Can we go?"

The Sheriff snorted. "Not likely. Sit down. Derek and I have one more glass to finish and then we'll be joining you."

Stiles grumbled about nosy dads and interfering best friends and Derek bit back a smile but the Sheriff must have caught it because he nudged Derek with his elbow. "At least I have company putting up with him now."

"Hey!" Stiles protested from the kitchen table. "I heard that."

"You were meant to."

Derek heard the huff of exasperation from Stiles and now he was fighting laughter. He finished drying the glass and put it up in the cupboard. The Sheriff took the towel from him and jerked his head toward the table with a pointed look. Filling up with dread, Derek's shoulders hunched and he sat down next to Stiles, who quickly grabbed his hand under the table and laced their fingers together.

The Sheriff sat down across from them and folded his hands on the table. "Wanna explain those marks to me?"

"It was Derek's wolf, Dad. See, he smelled the tattoo artist on me and his wolf got possessive and instinct took over and well, marks." Stiles smiled hopefully at his Dad, who looked over to Derek for confirmation.

"A collar?"

Feeling like he was facing some sort of inquisition, Derek tightened the grip he had on Stiles' hand. "I apologize sir. I won't lose control like that again. But the combination of the full moon and Stiles avoiding me and smelling like a stranger –"

"It was like the perfect storm," the Sheriff finished for him.

Relief settled over Derek's shoulders like a comforting blanket. 

"I'm sure I don't have to have the safe sex discussion with you boys."

"Dad!"

"No, sir."

"Good. Stiles, you're an adult, I expect you to act like one. Be responsible. You're eighteen now, so curfew on weeknights is midnight, on the weekends we can negotiate. School work is a priority. If your grades slip, I add restrictions. I also expect college applications to be completed and not just to Beacon Hills Community Online whatever."

He turned his attention to Derek and fixed him with a look that made Derek feel like squirming in his seat. 

"And you. Next time leave the marks where I can pretend they don't exist."

His face flushing hard, Derek dropped his eyes to the table. "Yes sir."

"And I don't want any excuses about it being the full moon, or Stiles had weird smells. I think it's fairly obvious to anyone that you two are together, you've both just been too idiotic to notice yourselves. Until now."

The Sheriff looked back at Stiles. "Now, I suspect you two still have more to discuss, what with the collar and the new tattoo you're sporting. So I'll leave you to it. Gonna check in at the station. I expect both you boys here for dinner. I'm grilling steaks. Don’t even think about denying me my steaks Stiles, I deserve them after this."

With that, he stood up, kissed Stiles on the head, clapped his hand down on Derek's shoulder and walked out of the room. The awkward silence that filled it after he left was deafening. Derek ran his finger up and down the handle of his coffee mug and Stiles chewed his thumb so much Derek reached out and grabbed his hand, afraid Stiles was going to make it bleed.

The touch of Stiles' skin was all it took. It sent sparks zinging through Derek and through Stiles based on his reaction and the quick intake of breath Derek could hear. 

"So this thing between us is obviously a thing now. A thing that other people know about, that other people apparently knew about before we did? Because we were idiots? I guess the wall slamming and getting in my face was some sort of weird werewolf foreplay wooing thing and if it was, um, what do you think about changing it to what you did last night, because I'll be honest, I enjoyed that a lot more than I enjoy the wall slamming."

"Tell me more about the tattoo."

"Tell me more about what the whole bonding thing is," Stiles countered.

"You said it last night. You know what the bonding thing is, what it means."

Stiles frowned and Derek could almost hear the wheels turning in his head as he went back over what had happened and been said last night. His eyes widened. "So mates, then? This is apparently for real," he waved his hands between them.

Derek nodded his head slowly. He watched the emotions as they appeared and disappeared on Stiles' face and then Stiles was standing and crossing the short distance between them. Standing up and opening his arms, Derek pulled him into an embrace. Stiles clung to him, hands clenched in the back of his shirt, face buried in his shoulder. "I want this, I've wanted this so much. She said I'd understand, that I'd know, and I'd hoped, but I never, I just didn't think you'd –"

"I do. My wolf just figured it out long before I did."

Silence reigned for a moment and then Stiles started to talk. "The tattoo. I told you how I designed it. When he was doing it I just believed, kind of like I did with the Mountain Ash thing? I had a mantra in my head I just kept repeating over and over, including the bit about the wolf and the ram being stronger when joined by the heart." He pulled back to look Derek in the eye.

"That must have been what joined us. I mean, obviously it had to have already been there or it wouldn't have worked, but yeah, my belief that the wolf and the ram were stronger together –"

"Was what broke through our idiocy," Derek said dryly.

Huffing out a chuckle, Stiles burrowed back into Derek's shoulder. "Yeah, I guess. Um, sorry?"

"I'm not," Derek whispered, kissing the side of Stiles' head. "We _are_ stronger together. We were just –"

"Oblivious. That pretty much covers it. Heads too much up our own asses. Go us. The pack is probably making our 'Idiots of the Year' awards right now. There'll be a whole presentation at the next pack meeting. We'll have to give speeches, there will be clapping. We'll get these little certificates, maybe a plaque-" 

"Stiles?"

"What?"

"Shut up."

And Stiles did, but only when Derek crushed their mouths together and forced him to. Their talk wasn't over, just postponed. There was much to be explored about their new bond and Stiles' new tattoo Derek thought as he threaded his fingers through Stiles' belt loops, pulling him closer, swallowing the needy moan that Stiles made. Those diaries written by Stiles' mom and Stiles’ ability to _believe_ things into existence would need to be investigated, talked about, maybe even shared with Deaton. 

But all that could wait. Right now, his wolf was pushing at him, demanding that its needs be met, demanding that Derek kiss, mark, _claim_. He nosed at Stiles' neck, licking lightly over one of the marks, because really, who was he to argue with his wolf? 

**

The End

**

**Author's Note:**

>  **Disclaimers/Archive:** These people are NOT mine. The characters of Teen Wolf were created by Jeff Davis and I'm just playing in his sandbox for fun. I promise I'll return them in pristine condition when I'm done :D PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE do NOT tweet the actors or the show's creators a link to this, tweet their friends or relatives a link to this, or in any other way let them know this fic even exists. If you would like to make one copy for your own personal use, that is fine, please do not redistribute, copy, or in any way claim as your own.
> 
> This fills the "Astrology" square for my Cotton Candy Bingo card on Dreamwidth.
> 
> This is for unightfog's birthday! Happy Birthday <3333


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